Life Will Never Forgive You
by RevolvingAbyss
Summary: A self-insert of my newly found life in the ME universe. I awoke with no memory of how I suddenly arrived there. But I also noticed there was something different about myself. Something...evil. As if I wasn't alone; accompanied by an unseen presence. And as the cruel realities of that world unfolded before me, I soon realized that as dangerous as it was, I held something far worse.
1. Prologue

Omega really is a dream come to life. And every dream has the chance of becoming a nightmare. I couldn't tell you which of the two I was _so_ fortunate enough to have. This place is always the right balance of chaos and luxury.

It was also the beginning of my new life.

But before we begin, you should know a little about the man you're going to follow. I'm African-American, shaved head, no facial hair, and in my early twenties. That covers the appearance.

As far as my personality is concerned, that will come out on its own. I always thought of myself as a nice person, but not a good one. Though, I'm not sure what weight the word "good" even carries anymore.

I'm all for manners, but if somebody wrongs me, I could still sleep at night after watching them burn alive. How, you might ask? For one, I know karma is a lie. Too many evil people in history rose to power for that to be true. It only exists to make good people feel scared or guilty about doing bad things.

Point is, the universe doesn't give a shit about anyone or man's concept of good and evil. If no one corrects it, evil will continue being evil and run rampant while the innocent still suffer. If you don't have the power to control your life, and what happens to you, what's to stop you from becoming another unfortunate statistic?

Knowing that, I don't waste tears or sympathy on someone the world is better off without.

The last thing you need to understand is the "why." The "why" behind what happened to me. Know that there is a difference between this and the "how." The latter, I cannot tell you. But the "why" is simple .

Is your life a waste? Do you spend your days on some trivial entertainment? Could I sum up everything there is to know about you in some superficial profile you made for your imaginary "friends?"

You know damn well what I'm talking about. People without fulfillment. Trapped in a cycle only death can relieve them of. I suffered that cycle. And I saw no solution in sight. I had no idea who I was or what I really wanted.

I was pathetic. Like so many others.

One day, when I'd die in a car accident or get randomly struck by lightning, I'd be filed away as another statistic who had no worth in his life. _That_ was my greatest fear.

I needed control over my life. I needed direction.

I needed power.

I didn't know how I was going to find it... and I never did.

_It_ found me.

**AN: **For those who have been following my story, I know this is like the second time I've changed things around. Just trying to make up my mind on some old ideas. Expect the following chapter to have some differences, but for the better.


	2. Hell is Closer Than You Think

A chill was tethered to the sweeping, eery wind. Murmuring a lone, dreadful tone in its low echoes. The leafless tress waned as the wind continuously pushed them left-to-right. They were slim shadows against the overcast sky.

When I looked upward, I only saw the clouds. No gaps between them as they painted the ground in its pale gray of light.

Where was I? Was it a dream, or did I somehow find myself somewhere I shouldn't have?

It felt like a dream where my absentmindedness never questioned my actions. I could feel my feet slowly sinking into the soft dirt with every step, as the stale scent of this ominous forest filled my nostrils.

Further and further I went into the forest. Everywhere I looked were the same dead trees watching me from above, standing tall and defiant in their statures.

And then, I saw something in the distance. Like there was something hanging from the trees. I got closer and I noticed that they were...they were bodies.

Hanging from those slim, ugly claws for branches, were bodies hung upside down, held by pieces of ropes. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and their eyes... Their eyes had been gouged. I could even see black stains of blood on their faces like tears. These bodies were in every direction. Dozens of them.

I was still barely aware of what was happening. But as I got a better look, I noticed that the corpses were actually me. Even in their rotten, hideous state, I could recognize myself in them. These _things_ had been me. But it couldn't have been possible. Where the hell was I?

Suddenly, in the distance, I could hear these faint sounds, They sounded like voices. Yes. They were voices. One was male and the other female, but I couldn't exactly pin what they were saying. It's like they were talking over each other.

"_It hurts so much. Why am I here? Just kill them. Set me free." _

Those last words... they stood out somehow, and I could hear them getting louder.

"_Reeeleaaasssssse meeeeee." _

And the voice grew louder still.

"_RELEASE ME!" it bellowed like something out of hell itself. _

I jumped at the sound. I looked around everywhere I could, but saw nothing. I felt the wind picking up speed as I heard it roar through the trees; the corpses swing helplessly.

"_There is power in choice," _said the female voice.

I looked up to see the corpses again. They were the ones that were talking.

"_This choice, was yours," _said the male voice.

I didn't believe my eyes. The lips on these things were all moving, talking as if they were right next to me.

"_The deed _will_ be done," _they all whispered. That time, the male and female voices overlapped each other. Again, all the corpses spoke. _"The deed _will. Be. Done._" _

And right there, was when I finally woke up.


	3. Welcome to Blood-Stained Paradise

That dream was the last thing I remembered before Omega. I don't even know if I had it immediately prior to coming there. Everything was exactly like a dream. You know the information is all there, but you can only pick out bits and pieces—never seeing the full picture.

I simply pegged it for a nightmare or some other kind of unexplainable shit. If only that's all it was. The truth would make itself known in time.

My first memory of this world, was waking up in this narrow alley surrounded by trash. Sticky wrappers and scraps of alien food. A mixture of smells from some rotten old kitchen.

I was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt. After I wiped the trash off of me, I started taking in my surroundings. I saw the starry sky of space above, with a few skycars flying by as fast as shooting stars. The buildings—painted in this faint, crimson hue—shot up higher than skyscrapers, with some pipes protruding out of them that exuded fire. At first, I wasn't sure what I had just seen. Then I turned my attention towards the end of the alley. I could hear some people, "talking." But I couldn't make a lick of what they were saying.

Out on the street, there were a few people here and there walking by. Only, by "people," I mean four-eyed aliens. Yep, Batarians.

That time, I didn't have any doubts what I saw. Of course, my first assumption was that I was in a way too vivid dream. I was literally about to pinch myself, before I noticed my left hand.

On the back of it, there was this weird symbol, like a glyph or something. The lines were colored black, and it took up just about my entire hand. It looked like it was something out of the occult, and I never saw anything like it before.

I gently touched it, and it gave off this foreboding feeling. Most people would assume they got drunk and carry a tattoo as a reminder of their mistakes that night. But even if that was remotely true, why the hell would I have gotten something like that? It was just...wrong, but I couldn't understand why.

I thought about the dream for a moment. Were they somehow connected? Was that even possible? My memory was still shoddy, but a few words were coming back to me.

"_The deed... the deed will be done." _

At the time, that was the most I could remember. Once again, I found myself somewhere I shouldn't have been, with a million questions and jack-shit for answers.

I was hesitant, but I slowly walked out into the street. All those aliens passing me by, and they didn't even look my direction. To them, I was just another human. But to me, despite having seen them a thousand times in the game, it's just different in person. I was afraid to make eye-contact for Christ's sake.

Then there was their language. A combination of hacks and hisses thrown everywhere. To them, it's random chatter. To me, it's a fucking ear sore.

I tried to keep my head up and not quiver like I so desperately wanted to on the inside. Maybe others would have been more excited about the situation. But I was just uneasy by the lack of humans. I didn't know it at the time, but I was in some residential area populated mainly by Batarians. Given the bad history between the two species, humans don't exactly have a large—or even small presence there. If you ever see a human there, it's either a bum looking for scarps even if it might kill him, or some fool who got lost on his way to god knows where. Guess which one I fell under?

The area was nothing impressive. Think of it as the alien equivalent to a neighborhood just one small class above a ghetto. These giant skyscrapers reminded me of town houses or those cramp Japanese apartments where you could hear if someone was fucking or taking a shit right next door. They didn't have any windows, and it probably fitted like fifty or so rooms in there.

"Is that all?" you might ask. Most homes on Omega prefer buildings that are more vertical than horizontal when it comes to size. I couldn't tell you if that was a smart or weird call on their part.

Along the street, there were a couple of leaking pipes stretching out above me, which made a few rust-colored puddles here and there. Unlike what I remember from the game, some of the Batarians were surprisingly fat. They weren't all the same, perfectly fit models. They weren't bloated, but you could notice they had some stomachs going on. It was strange, to say the least.

As I went further down, some of the Batarians were standing around having their own conversations, while I saw others just lying in the streets. They looked awful. Their clothes were torn and stained everywhere. Some of them didn't even have shoes and their feet were black with dirt. None of them looked my way. Their eyes were glued to the ground in front of them with these complacent stares.

It's not that the Batarians pretend they don't see them like we do, they really just don't give two shits. I've never seen such indifference, and I wasn't there for ten minutes. As far as I knew.

But lemme give you a quick lesson about something called "territory." The strongest control. You walking into someone's area is no different to them than going into their house uninvited. And if they catch you, you're not gonna like how they make you leave.

Humans aren't respected on Omega. They're like the bottom of the fucking trash heap. But it's worse than being disrespected. You're also disliked, and out there, no one makes it a secret. That doesn't bode well when it comes to people with short tempers and giant egos. And Omega is infested with them.

As I continued walking, a group of Batarians approached me. Three of them. Two looked purplish while the other was green. I could see they had Predators hanging at their waist sides, and I was already assuming the worst was going to happen.

Like dogs, we don't understand a goddamn thing they say, but we know when they're angry, and those Batarians were fucking angry. They started throwing a bunch of barks my way, probably accusing me of something, but it was all gibberish to me.

They must have thought I was playing dumb by not answering them, and they got even more pissed off as their voices grew louder. I looked around, and the other Batarians were going out of their way not to even look my direction. That's when I knew I was definitely screwed.

The two purple Batarians were at my sides while the green one stood in front. I saw him reaching for his gun, but before I could even blink, the two purples shoved me to the ground.

They started pulling at my arms while pressing their feet down at the joints.

"Hey! Hey, get the fuck off me!" I tried tugging away, but they had me and I knew it.

The green Batarian pulled up my shirt and tore a small piece off it from the corner. He knelt down, staring at me. I didn't know which set of eyes to look at, and my god, it's more uncomfortable than you can imagine.

I heard a loud click as he discharged a thermal clip. The damn thing looked like a battery with a fire inside it.

Can you guess what was about to happen next? I did.

My eyes were stuck to the thing. So much so, I could see the small trails of heat coming off it. For a moment, I looked back at the Batarian, and he gave me this sick smile. The kind were you show your teeth. It was like a mouthful of miniature knives in there.

And right then, I felt the heat against my chest. He pressed that clip deep into my skin. A fragment of the sun itself was burning into my flesh, and all I could do was yell. I yelled so much, I could feel my lungs ready to explode, but I couldn't stop. It was automatic.

Now, I wasn't able to speak alien. But even they knew a universal language: laughter. Over my own screaming, I could hear the bastards laughing. I even saw the green one right in my face with that same, sickly grin.

I tried to get angry. I thought, maybe he'd back off. Maybe I could distract myself from the pain. I don't know. There wasn't much time to think about anything.

"You motherfucker! I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill all of you!"

I think that only made them laugh more. Empty threats from a weak, little human.

My teeth grinded together like a motherfucker. I couldn't tell you if it hurt, because all the pain was focused elsewhere. For a moment, I wished he would have just shot that fucking gun and ended it. This was pain on a whole new scale.

Then, the purple Batarians took their feet off my arms and dragged me up, now throwing some words around at each other.

I was taking sharp breaths through the gaps of my clenched teeth, but I didn't dare look down at the damage I just suffered. My imagination was ugly enough.

I couldn't walk. I might say, "wouldn't," but I didn't have the energy for defiance. The purples dragged me away while they followed the green one's lead.

This hell had only just begun.


	4. It's Not Your Life Anymore

The Batarians had taken me to this ass-end-of-nowhere type street. Completely empty with no witnesses. It was kind of elevated. You could look below and straight ahead and see some buildings out in the distance, but where we were was kind of like a back-alley sort of route. I wasn't surprised by the lack of traffic given that where they got me was a pretty poor looking neighborhood.

The shuttle car we came in parked onto the street, and I was left sitting on my knees while the three Batarians stood amongst themselves waiting.

I kept my head to the ground, avoiding eye-contact. I could still hear their little whispered snarls here and there. But my main focus was on the pain in my chest. I only took a slight peek though my shirt's collar, and I saw a red fleshy patch of meat. I couldn't stand the sight for more than one second, it was so ugly.

And every time I moved my chest, just a little, it was like lighting a million matches inside me. I had met some sick fucks, no doubt about that.

Then, I saw a truck flying towards us. The front where the driver was is what you'd expect, and it had a flatbed with a bunch of large crates in the back.

Looks like they had called a friend.

The truck landed in front of us, and the driver slowly stepped out. Another Batarian, this one more brown in color, except he had armor and a mean-looking Vindicator on his back. The other Batarians went towards him and started talking a bit more. They didn't even watch me. They must have known I couldn't run if I tried.

But I started hearing something. Something less...alien. And it came from the crates. It was faint at first, but I figured it out. It was people. They were banging against the crates and yelling. It was muffled by the crates a little, but I was sure of it.

And that's when it hit me. Those Batarians were slavers. Assholes must have thought they could make a few credits off of me instead of just killing me.

Every once in a while, they'd look my way during their little chat. The armored Batarian wasn't looking too pleased. His voice grew harsher in tone as he kept pointing at me. Whatever they were talking about, it's safe to say it wasn't going well.

I knew where it was headed. If they didn't cram me into one of those crates, they were gonna kill me. How did I end up in such a shit storm like this?

Then, I saw the good ol' green Batarian pull out his Predator as he approached me. The ending had already given itself away.

He looked pretty annoyed as he walked towards me. But this time, the fucker was silent. Save for the gunshot he was about to make, not a sound was going to come out of him. I eyeballed those sickly dark eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't make a repeat of our first encounter.

This was it.

Then, I started to feel this pulse. A vibration inside me. It was coming from my hand. The one with the tattoo. I looked at it, and I could swear I saw this faint glow coming off of it. Some type of rush trying to escape.

I got angry. It was different. Like... I could afford to be angry, that I could do something about it. And that's when the Predator came up in my face.

I looked up at him as the Batarain aimed it at my head. But he didn't pull the trigger yet. Probably because of my expression. It wasn't one of pain, but of detest. I was challenging him to kill me.

There was something different going on inside me and we both felt it. I knew I couldn't understand a word he said, but I knew he had to be able to understand _me._

Maybe it was shock from the fear of incoming death. Or maybe a moment of desperation and insanity. But I looked straight at him. I looked him in his eyes and said, "Fuck. You." Then I spat in his face. I think it hit him right in his nostrils.

Obviously that set him off. He started to snarl like a common mutt as his grip tightened on the pistol. I knew in the next second, he would fire. In the next second, I'd be dead.

It only takes one second to die. And something inside me made that second count. Something wanted to survive.

I clenched my fist, and then shot it forward at the Batarian. A huge wave of energy was sent flying as the Batarian was knocked clean off his ass.

And I thought, "Holy shit." I had biotics. How, I had no idea. But I had fucking biotics. They worked a lot like you'd expect telekinesis to; a combination of body movements and willpower.

The other Batarians looked at their fallen friend in shock. But I knew I felt more surprised than they possibly could have. But I couldn't afford to sit in amazement. I saw the three of them reach for their weapons. So I sent out another surge of biotic power from my arm.

The energy felt like someone hit an "On" switch and this electricity scattered up through my limbs. It was insane. And the damage looked as strong as it felt. In an instant, the Batarians were swept off their feet and sent hurling over the edge.

I heard their screams on the way down which I imagined to be quite a drop. However far down it was, I knew they weren't coming back up.

Unfortunately—or rather, _fortunately,_ depending on who you ask—the green Batarian was still on his ass, barely able to move.

But before I could even think about him, something even more bizarre happened. I was able to stand up. I was about to approach him when I suddenly noticed I didn't feel any pain. I looked down my shirt, and the fleshy patch of burnt skin had disappeared. I was healed.

I glanced at the tattoo again. I could still feel its pulse, like a faint heartbeat. This thing, somehow, had been my saving grace. But questions came later.

Like I said—I could _afford_ to be angry now. Because now I could do something about it.

I walked slowly towards the Batarian. He was clenching his sides as he moaned in pain. I noticed his Predator was a few feet in front of him. The closer I got, the more he tried to reach for it, but we both knew it was too far away. I had him.

I picked up the Predator. The size wasn't too different than a regular sidearm, and I've seen much larger pistols than the Predator. The grip was surprisingly spacious. But I guess it had to be to account for alien hands. The thing that made it feel a bit more "sci-fi" were the two tiny blue lights on the side of it.

After I finished my quick examination of the gun, I returned my attention to the Batarian. He hacked and screeched god-only-knows what at me. Probably, "filthy human," and, "I'll make you pay for this." And I wondered if that was how pathetic I must have looked to them. But I didn't care enough to give it more thought.

I took a shot into his leg. He shrieked as a steam trailed from the opening and blood rushed out onto the floor beneath him. I fired twice into his other leg. Again, he yelled, trying to cover the wound, but his hands couldn't stop the blood. I could even smell his burnt flesh. It was like someone microwaved rotten meat.

He looked at me with his face painted with hatred as he continued to scream his gibberish. I shot him again in his left arm. I felt like I was operating on instinct. Nowhere in my mind was I thinking to do anything that I was doing. It's weird to describe.

The Batarian started to fall on his side as he continued to give me that same glare. I didn't look away. I _wanted_ to see. I wanted to remember the look of seeing life vanish from his face.

I gripped the gun as tightly as I could. My face was full of anger, I was sure. But I don't remember the sound of the Batarian's voice. I don't know what he might have said or whether _I _said anything. I just remember that last pull on the trigger.

And bam.

A bullet right through one of his eyes and fell back like it was nothing. The Batarian bastard had a new hole in his head. I could actually see through it. It was like a fleshy, blood stained cavern the bullet left in its path.

More and more of his blood continued to spill and it was making its way to my feet, but I didn't move.

I had killed the bastards. All of them. For some reason, I ended up in that place. And for some reason, some part of me fought to stay alive.

But you know... there was something Jack once said that I particularly liked. How she justified her existence and didn't regret a damn thing she did with it. "There's no reason I should be alive, but I am. You know why? Instinct. It's worked for me so far, and I'm not changing it now."

Some people might feel upset over what I did. But I really didn't give two shits. It wasn't a choice I made, it's just how I felt and I couldn't help that. I wouldn't if I actually could.

Because you know, the only real judge we have to answer to is ourselves. If we don't do something we'd condemn ourselves for, than why should we give a shit?

It's probably why I didn't care. But hey, better some four-eyed bastard than me. That's all I gotta say about that.


End file.
